Almost a year into our marriage, Sam and I bought a house. It was in coastal North Carolina, and it was much, much bigger than our tiny 1-bedroom basement apartment had been on Long Island. Because it was the tail end of Covid, and so many people were leaving New York for elsewhere, we had trouble finding a moving truck. There were literally none to be had anywhere near us and there weren’t any estimated to be for a long time.

So, we had the idea to drive our cars– packed as much as they could be– down to North Carolina, close on our home, and rent a moving truck from there. Then, Sam would turn around, drive the moving truck back to New York, get the rest of our stuff, before coming back down to our new home.

Think about an engagement ring. That is an item that is purchased for a large sum of money. And not only that, but after that initial purchase, the item gains meaning for us. Not only is it something that is purchased at a great personal, financial cost, but it’s also something that has a great deal of symbolism that heightens the value of the ring. It’s a symbol of love, of a vow, a commitment, and a covenant between two people. Those things make that ring priceless. 

Now imagine, after all that intrinsic and irreplaceable value, would you suddenly turn around and sell that engagement ring at a garage sale? Probably not. A garage sale is where items of a much lesser value are sold, and no one is going to pay the price that a diamond ring is worth standing in your driveway. That would be grossly undercutting the worth of it.

Ask any mom with little ones: one of the worst places for a kid to cry inconsolably is church. Recently, Lily chose the prayer part of church service to throw a stunning temper tantrum. She was ripe for a nap and wanted to fight it the whole way. I took her out of service and into a stairwell, trying to calm her. Unfortunately, whole minutes passed, and I could not get her to stop. I tried it all– hushing, singing, bouncing– nothing worked.

I knew the whole congregation could hear her screaming, and I knew it was probably a huge test of Sam’s concentration to pray and preach through this epic meltdown Lily was having.

I went to preschool at a Christian school, so woven into the curriculum was Gospel truth and scripture. When I learned my alphabet, I learned the letter in sign language, the sound it made, and a scripture verse along with each letter.

“A, All have sinned and fall short of the glory of God,” “B, Believe in the Lord Jesus Christ and thou shalt be saved…” and so on.

When Sam and I first had Piper, she was the classic first child. She adapted to things easily, she slept through the night early on, she was happy, and easy-going. Whenever anyone spent time with her, they’d eventually say with a smirk and a funny expression, “Just wait until the second comes along.”

You see, there’s this long-standing idea that the first child is this peaceful, ideal kid that convinces their parents, “We could totally do this again!” and leaves them totally unprepared for the second.

I got married at the height of COVID. June, to be precise. We were engaged the November before– when the world was still normal. By March, when everything shut down, we basically had a wedding put together and almost paid off. We had a plan; from the DJ, the photographer, the venue, the wedding party, the dresses, the suits, the food– everything was set for our June wedding.

But like most weddings that were derailed by the coronavirus, it never happened. At least, not according to that plan.The best of our plans came to nothing, and I, like most brides of the time, was completely disappointed that my turn had finally come to plan a wedding and be a bride and It was not going to be what I thought it would be.

Piper loves to cook in the kitchen, so we let her do things within her ability: cracking the eggs, stirring things in the pan, pouring ingredients into bowls– just anything that she can handle. Recently, I’ve tried new sourdough discard cookie recipes that are so delicious, but they require a few extra steps to make them all the more delicious, like browning the butter, sifting the flour, and chilling the dough before putting them in the oven. They come out so warm and yummy that the extra steps seem worth it.

Last week, I had some sourdough discard to use, so I decided to make them. I started the process while Piper was watching a movie. She came in at the tail end of putting the batter together, so she probably only put in the last of the dry ingredients and chocolate chips; there wasn’t too much to do before putting it in the fridge other than letting her sneak a taste.

I was one of the first of my friends to get married. My marriage is still young– we celebrated six years this June– but I’ve stood as a bridesmaid several times over for my friends who have been married since. Anyone who has been through the wedding planning process can relate that the process is full of self-imposed stress. And that stress has a way of making you forget the stuff that really, really matters about a wedding.

I think for every friend I have ever been a bridesmaid for, there was a moment where the pressure was high and they asked for a reality check. My best advice was always this: The biggest part of the wedding planning is already done. God has provided the man, and praise Him! Because without that piece, the day isn’t happening. Absolutely everything else could fall apart– the dress, the flowers, the food, and the DJ– but if the one that your soul loves is still in, the most important part is covered.

In Genesis 4, we read the story of Cain and Abel, the two firstborn sons of Adam and Eve. As Cain and Abel grew, they offered their own sacrifices before the Lord; Cain offering the harvest of the fields and Abel offering the firstborn of His flock. Scripture says the Lord had a high regard for Abel’s sacrifice, and none for Cain’s, which angered Cain.

This led to a confrontation between Cain and God, where God addresses Cain about his heart. “Why are you so angry? And why do you look annoyed?  If you do well [believing Me and doing what is acceptable and pleasing to Me], will you not be accepted? And if you do not do well [but ignore My instruction], sin crouches at your door; its desire is for you [to overpower you], but you must master it” (v 6b-7). This would lead the hostility in Cain’s heart to grow more unchecked to the point where he would kill Abel in cold blood, which brings further judgment from God onto Cain.

The church I grew up in had several worship teams throughout the decades I spend there. One worship leader’s name was Dolores. She only lead very occasionally, when there was a rare gap in worship leaders’ schedules, but when she did, she was always on an acoustic guitar. 

Dolores is a genuine flower child, saved after her wild days in the 60s, but her style of worship was still very “Stevie Nicks found the joy of the Lord.” She always sang songs that no one else did. One of them was this exact scripture, and there weren’t too many other words than that. But I cannot hear that scripture without hearing her singing it with that strummy guitar behind her.

So what does it mean? It’s obviously metaphorical about the strength and protection of the Lord towards His people, but how is it practically applied?

When Sam, my now husband, and I started dating, everything was new and exciting. We were fun and playful; we were tender and excited to see if this was a forever kind of love. Already, I knew he treated me the way I wanted to be treated, but still everything was fresh. Nothing had been tested by adversity or arguments or inconvenience.

But within the first few weeks of dating, someone close to us tried to quite literally destroy my character in public and in ministry. Over the next few weeks and months, many questioned both him and me, and some even urged Sam to end the relationship. In a lot of ways, that season felt a lot like a Job moment; maybe not to the degree in which Job suffered since I still had my health, my home, and my family, but it was the kind of thing that felt like it hung over my head and caused grief that had to be dealt and re-dealt with. I lost friends from that moment in time, and a few trust issues developed. 

Emotions are tricky. On one hand, God has given them as a great help to us. They ignite our passion for the Lord and move us to give our lives to Him. They embolden us to share the Gospel that has changed us so completely. They contribute to convictions of the Holy Spirit in killing our sin and sanctifying ourselves to be more like Christ. When they are controlled and wielded righteously, they are a great help to navigating our Christian walk.

On the other hand, emotions are misleading and they are not irrefutable. They are still a part of the flesh-response in our fallen nature. They can lead us to sin, offend God, hurt others, and provide excuses for us to remain comfortable in our temptations and trespasses.

Growing up, I knew my dad was proud of me. Dance recitals, school awards ceremonies, you name it– my dad was either out in the audience or waiting in the wings with tears in his eyes. But nothing was more sure to make my dad well up more than seeing me or my brother do something in the church. Getting baptized? Leading worship? Forget it; he was sure to be a puddle wherever he was standing.

And there are some moments in life where pride is permissible: when it swells in you because of an achievement, or because of a close relationship. Feeling a deep satisfaction at a success or at watching someone you love excel at what they love is a positive thing. It’s one of life’s joys. 

I wear very few items of jewelry on a daily basis. One piece that barely ever comes off is a small chain with a set of wings given to me by my sister. She gave it to me as we read Let Me Be a Woman by Elisabeth Elliot during her engagement. Chapter 8, “The Weight of Wings,” resonated with us both, even at our differing stages of womanhood and marriage.

I have a books my mother in law bought me of famous hymns and spiritual songs, containing their hymnal sheet music, and the back story behind why the song was written. In one of the volumes of these books, there was a song that caught my eye: Lily of the Valley by Charles Fry.

Lily of the Valley is a pet name I have for my second-born daughter named Lily– who was born and lives in a valley town. Upon seeing the title, I had to flip to the song and pull up a rendition of it to hear.

“I have found a friend in Jesus, He's everything to me / He's the fairest of ten thousand to my soul / The lily of the valley and in Him alone I see / All I need to cleanse and make me fully whole”

There is some disagreement over what exactly Solomon means in Proverbs 13:23. It could be taken two ways: The first is that the poor, for their lack of work, leaves uncultivated ground untapped because they lack the work ethic to put in the labor it takes to grow and harvest food. This would, of course, make sense, if you have a field and choose to not plow the field, sow seed, water it, tend to it, and then harvest the food it brings forth, then the resource has been mismanaged and the field has gone to waste. It is an injustice to not steward that rightly.